Those are words you might think would be wonderful to hear – and perhaps they would be if it were vacation and I had a handy dandy foot servant to tend to my needs, but the reality is something much harder.

A few weeks ago I started experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions – not something unfamiliar to me. I recognized the cramping and tightness for what it was, but it still made me uneasy with my high risk for premature labor. I asked both my high risk OB and my regular OB about them. Good news is that they aren’t active contractions – my cervix is just fine – which is great! The bad news is that they are triggered when I’m on my feet or bending too often and lots of contractions still aren’t a great thing to be experiencing when we are hoping to make it at least seven more weeks before we deliver.

My regular OB told me she didn’t want to put me on bed rest for a number of reasons, but the primary one was how stressful something like that is for a family: loss of income, the burden of everything falling on one partner and the kids without easy and constant access to Mama creates chaos. So, she didn’t put me on bed rest – yet. However, I have been threatened with it if I don’t “stop and sit down already.”

I am very fortunate that my job allows me to sit most of the time, and the parts of my job that require me to be on my feet – namely photography – are slowly being handed off to other capable hands for now. In fact work has proven to be the best thing for me right now. I can arrive, sit at my desk and work, slowly meander to the bathroom across the hall on occasion (or really LOTS of occasions), and just be.

Home life, however, has proven to be much more difficult. Having two children, ages 3 and 16 months who are still very dependent on their parents makes staying off my feet extremely difficult and nearly impossible. There are so many things I have taken for granted that are now an obstacle to overcome. My husband has risen to the occasion valiantly. Where we once both shared cooking responsibilities, he has taken over almost all of them (though I still offer to sit and peel and chop veggies!) The grocery shopping, which has always been my chore, has had to be passed off to Mark as well. I can still fold laundry, but not rotate it.

Oh, that must be so nice, you think, having someone take care of all that for you. Well, here’s the problem, I like things done the way and on the time frame I’m used to doing them on, and I feel bad nagging my husband once he finally sits down to get up and rotate laundry. Not to mention there are so many things I want to do that are no longer an option. I really wanted to go to the Mardi Gras parades this past weekend, but my OB said, “If you’re thinking about going, just don’t.”

My girls want me to get up and play. Sarah is always begging me to dance with her or go to another room to see her latest creation. My 16-month-old is constantly digging into and climbing on things she shouldn’t be, and when daddy is trying to man the cooking and dishes, it falls to me to try to keep an eye on her ever-busy body. And that little toot has figured out that she can run from me and I can’t give chase! She will scoop up a penny or an ink pen and take off, laughing as she watches me try to hurry after her.

Just last week Mark was sick in bed with a 103 fever and Norah was super sick, too. In the process of trying to take care of everyone, I had a round of regular, scary contractions. Any time I think, “Oh, I’ve got this, just a short amount of time on my feet,” it backfires.

I know complaints from pregnant women can be annoying, and I am so very thrilled and blessed to meet these twins, but man, oh man, never did I think “taking it easy” would prove to be so hard.

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